


Shadowplay

by orphan_account



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood Elves, M/M, Male Slash, Oral Sex, kirin tor, purge of dalaran
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 12:58:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7362346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the terrifying events of the purge of Dalaran, Aethas Sunreaver, rescued by one he thought to be antagonistic to his cause, searches for meaning and healing in the wake of betrayal, and of the guilt he carries for those left behind. </p><p>Author's note--I hope it's not *too* lore-twisty-trash-bashy. I was chatting with a friend about pairings who would definitely have some hugebig baggage and an exchange between these two, so often at cross-purposes but united in wake of service to their people, popped into my mind. With lots of banging, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shatter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This part, SFW. In which Aethas confronts Rommath, asking why the Grand Magister led the strike force in Dalaran.

Aethas Sunreaver blinked. His eyes felt sandblasted and his lids were achey, impossibly heavy things. He was hovering outside of his own reality in a place beyond exhaustion, anger or fear.

It was the most powerless he had ever felt.

His restless heart and racing mind railed against a body that promised to betray him. Shock was setting in. Aethas fought away a chill despite the relative comfort of Regent Lord's study. He only vaguely registered that a strand of his travel-lank rusty hair had fallen over his face, tickling his dry lips.

 _My face. Not the mask I presented from my seat among The Six_ _…_  

“Have you anything else to add at this time, Aethas?” Lor’themar Theron’s voice sounded as if from a distance. "Aethas?"

Aethas blinked again, willing his reeling mind to focus. Lor'themar’s good eye was narrowed while he waited expectantly for a reply from the younger elf. Aethas met Lor’themar’s gaze as steadily as he was able.

“Not at this time, my Lord,” Aethas answered. The honorific felt strange on his tongue.

Lor’themar studied him for a moment, thoughtful. Aethas stood with his hands as his sides, unsure how much longer he could remain on his feet.

Answering to Lor’themar, explaining how it had all fallen apart was already the task of a lifetime. Doing so before the Regent’s right hand, Halduron Brightwing, was a layer of pain that added sting to ache. The stalwart, golden Ranger-general’s name had always seemed appropriate to Aethas—Brightwing looked every bit a true champion of the Sin’dorei.

Standing before Lor’themar and Halduron was not the worst of it, though.

_Sting to ache to shatter._

Next to the Regent Lord of Silvermoon City--who had paced, made notes, exchanged glances with Halduron--sat a presence far more daunting to Aethas than Lor'themar and Halduron combined.

 _Grand Magister Rommath_ _has not said a single word._

Rommath had observed the entire exchange with the taut, barely-restrained patience of a predator. His silence felt damning.

Aethas swallowed the hurt that rose up in this throat like bile.

_Why did he do it?  
_

Lor’themar stilled his pacing, drawing a hand over his face in a gesture that made him seem more tired than Aethas had ever seen the older elf.

“There is no more that we can do for now. Go, Sunreaver--rest for a time. I’ll send for you if you’re needed,” Lor’themar said with finality. “If you’ll excuse me…” The Regent Lord’s voice faded, the silver-haired Sin’dorei already lost again in thought as he left the study in a few long, loping strides. Halduron Brightwing nodded at Rommath and fixed Aethas with an almost questioning look before following after the Regent.

Aethas stood for several long moments in the middle of the well-appointed study, bars of late sunlight spilling over the blood-red carpet from high windows in the hallway beyond.

Grand Magister Rommath finally drew himself to standing, but did not leave. He watched Aethas with the same feline not-quite-patience as he had during the briefing.

Aethas could not stand it any longer. “You have something to say to me, Grand Magister?” he asked, the words far colder than he’d intended.

Rommath didn’t move. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and he peered at Aethas through the lock of inky dark hair that had escaped the otherwise neat horsetail at his neck.

“Well, out with it,” Aethas added with less conviction than before.

Rommath shrugged, a lift and drop of his shoulders that seemed almost mechanical. “I would say, Sunreaver, that _you_ are the one who has words for _me_.” Rommath stared at Aethas, expression not changing.

“Why?” Aethas blurted out, unable to stop himself. “Why in the name of the Light, the Void, anything—why did you of all people come for me?” Aethas knew his voice was shrill and hard, and could feel the furious shaking of his hands. “You have accused me of being naive, of outright stupidity. You refused assistance when I requested aid against Malygos, you have damned the Kirin Tor time and time again and…”

Aethas's voice broke. He closed his mouth, chewing on his lip until he tasted blood. He stood in the waning sunlight in the Regent Lord’s study with the one who he would have least expected to lead a strike force into a newly hostile Dalaran and risk his life for one he had disparaged and called to task during their entire acquaintance.

Aethas looked up at Rommath, pain and confusion muddling his thoughts.

“Go on,” Rommath said, spreading his hands in an incongruously conciliatory gesture.

Aethas snapped his gaze back to the other elf at the sound of his name on Rommath’s tongue.

“You hate me, Rommath. You—“

“ _Hate_ ,” Rommath cut in icily, “is a dangerous word, Sunreaver. Beware how you wield it.”

Aethas hissed a breath through clenched teeth. Rommath did not move or reply further so Aethas, defeated, sank into the chair the Grand Magister had occupied, not trusting his legs to function properly. The scent of the other elf remained on the plush fabric of the chair—a smell Aethas had breathed in while the world fell apart around him. Captive in the Violet Hold, torn between rage and despair, then suddenly turning from dark thoughts to look up into the last face he’d ever expect, a call to action in Thalassian on the other elf's lips. How Rommath had dragged him to standing with a firm grip, the lingering scorched-roses scent of magic mixed with cinnamon and spice in that black hair.

Aethas shivered. The memory was so close. Too raw.

It had been a surreal blur—hopelessness and helplessness interrupted like a stunted spell, Rommath fighting like one possessed to save Aethas’s own Sunreavers. Rommath the cold, the inscrutable urging Aethas through the melee and trundling him into the saddle of that poor frenzied dragonhawk fresh out of its own prison, the older elf spurring them both home.

_Home, where I am now, and faced with what?_

Aethas looked up at Rommath who was suddenly closer than before.

“You truly knew it was not my intention to harm anyone?” Aethas asked, voice cracking on the words.

“I am loyal to the Sin’dorei first, _always_. You kept silent when you could have said something, knowing how our people would have been punished. In the end, you chose your kindred,” Rommath said.

“Of course I chose my-- _our_ \--people,” Aethas countered.

“Many would be surprised, would not believe you. Your precious ideal of the Kirin Tor’s neutrality blinded you. There is no such thing,” Rommath said, disgust etched in his already hard features, “as pure neutrality. Especially not with _them_ —with puppets of that human witch. Yours was a dangerous game.”

Aethas dropped his gaze. “Some are still imprisoned there. I could do nothing.”

“No, you could not. Not alone,” Rommath said, tucking the strand of loose black hair behind one long ear with careful fingers.

“Why you, Rommath?” Aethas asked one more time, not bothering to hide the shaking of his voice.

Rommath looked down at him with a new expression.

_Pity._

“Believe what you will of me, Aethas Sunreaver, but I know more than most how alluring, how utterly destructive fighting for an ideal…an idea of an idea…can be,” Rommath said flatly. There was no irony or sarcasm in his voice now. Only…

_Regret._

Aethas looked up at the Grand Magister, piercing through Rommath's expression of cold judgment, of disdain. Aethas sensed regret like a shadow in the other man’s soul.

 _He is talking about Kael_ _'_ _thas. Nobody was closer to him than Rommath_ _…_

Strangeness skittered through Aethas’s awareness like an ice-spell. An epiphany about the other elf—his antagonist, his critic, his condemning elder--surfaced.

 _Rommath followed Kael_ _’_ _thas nearly to ruin. Was our Grand Magister in love with_ _the one who betrayed us all?_

Aethas looked up at the moment Rommath leaned over the chair where he sat. The Grand Magister gazed down at him, expression peculiar, then extended one hand.

Aethas was surprised to find himself accepting the help, his own pale fingers folded in the other elf’s strong grip.

“Thank you,” Aethas said, on his feet again and feeling awkward.

Rommath didn’t reply, just slid his fingers away with a studied deliberateness that shocked unexpected warmth over Aethas’s hand. When Aethas looked at Rommath again, the familiar scowl was back in place, twisting the other elf's harshly beautiful features.

 _But his eyes_ _…_ _green like mine, like all of ours_ _…_ _his eyes are not so sharp as they were before._

_Not daggers, just a slap to the face._

“I am not _entirely_ insensate, Aethas. Now go—do as your Regent commanded, and take rest. There will be much to answer for in the coming days.”

In a subtle swish of fabric and a padding of catlike footfalls, Rommath was gone, leaving behind only his cinnamon-and-magic scent and Aethas standing in the last ray of sun, hand held out to empty air.

 

 

 


	2. Interruption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rommath finds he cannot sleep and Aethas intervenes, ensuring sleep will most definitely be the last thing on the Grand Magister's mind.

Rommath had given up on sleep hours ago.

He sat, awake and alert, on a plush divan in front of a low-burning fire. An untouched glass of wine glinted in the dying embers and all around him sheer hangings stirred dreamily in the breeze from half-open windows.

He shivered but did not draw his robe closed. The cool air felt good against his skin, a distraction from the maelstrom of thoughts, of memories and regrets that tangled his mind. Memories of golden hair against smooth, pale skin. Of singular presence and power.

Memories of betrayal.

Rommath scowled to himself and reached for the wine only to freeze, arm outstretched. A noise apart from the crackling of the fire caused his ears to perk and his breathing to slow. The tiny chime of a bell sparkled in the air.

One of his wards had been tripped.

He stood in a fluid motion, a spell already on his lips as a voice murmured outside his chamber.

“Rommath. Open your door, please.”

“Sunreaver?” Rommath asked, frowning.

“I want to talk. I need…” The familiar voice faded to nothing.

Silence fell over the room, but Rommath could feel the other elf still there, waiting.  He sighed, annoyance and curiosity battling in his mind. Curiosity won, and the Grand Magister padded to the door to his chamber and opened it a crack.

Aethas Sunreaver stood before him like carved stone, eyes wide and expression intense.

“Whatever is wrong with you?” Rommath snapped, put off by the strangeness of the situation.

“I am sorry to wake you,” Aethas mumbled, but did not move.

“I was not asleep. What do you want?” Rommath opened the door a little wider, silencing the chiming bell of his wards with a hastily muttered command. Aethas took the opportunity to shoulder past him into his quarters.

“By all means, come in,” Rommath said dryly.

Aethas froze in his tracks, seeming abruptly aware of the situation he was putting himself in.

“I said to come in,” Rommath repeated himself, irritation sharpening the words.

Aethas shut the chamber door behind him and walked into the room without another word. He stood by the fire, arms crossed over his chest.

Rommath ordered the flames higher before collapsing back onto the divan, more awake even than before. He watched the younger elf stand silently, framed by firelight. The complex play of shadow and light on rust-red hair, on smooth, fair skin was mesmerizing.

Was _pleasing_.

Rommath shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He’d rarely seen Aethas so casually clad—perhaps never. Divested of his Kirin Tor regalia, wearing only loose trousers, leather slippers and a forest green shirt open at the neck, the other mage was…appealing.

Aethas turned to look at him, not smiling.

“Your guards are much easier to get past than you’d think,” Aethas said with a lift of his chin. “Either that, or I’m a better liar than I thought.”

The expression that flickered over Aethas’s face felt more like the earnest, even arrogant young Sin’dorei that Rommath had locked horns with on so many occasions. Certainly more like the insufferable Sunreaver he knew than the slumped, defeated creature he’d exchanged words with in the Regent Lord’s receiving room earlier in the day.

Rommath grimaced at Aethas. “They are not accustomed to denying Silvermoon’s elite on urgent business, which I am assuming you are. Besides which, you would never hope to get past my personal wards without my noticing.”

“You were surprised to see me,” Aethas countered.

“Have you ever before paid a visit to my personal rooms—my _bedchamber_ —in the dead of night? Indeed, at any time?” Rommath raised a brow, fighting not to give away just how confused he was. “Of course I was surprised.”

Aethas quirked his mouth--those full lips--in what _almost_ looked like a grin.

“My business is not urgent, Grand Magister Rommath. In fact, it is a matter of selfish indulgence,” Aethas said, any hint of smile disappearing. He turned again to his study of the fire, his shoulders high and tense.

“Then why are you here, Aethas?” Rommath asked, frank curiosity in his voice.

Aethas shrugged. “I don’t really know. I am just…uncentered. Unsure.”

Rommath shifted where he sat, tucking feet chilled by the cool night air under a satiny throw. He didn’t trust himself to reply, busying himself instead with a subtle study of the other elf. Aethas’s slender but powerful form seemed less cowed than before.  There was an unstudied grace to his smallest movements, even to the frown that furrowed his forehead and downturned his beautiful lips.

 _He is breathtaking_ , Rommath thought with a pang of unfamiliar emotion.

It had been forever since he had noticed another man the way he was now noticing Aethas.

“What are you thinking now, Rommath?” Aethas spoke into the quiet.

Rommath looked up in surprise, shoving away the guilty pleasure he’d experienced in his study of the other elf. He held Aethas’s gaze and replied with slow, deliberate arrogance, “I don’t really know.”

Aethas looked down at Rommath and smiled. “Nicely played, Grand Magister. Clearly I am not the only one around here who can lie.”

Rommath made a small noise of derision and sat up higher but before he could reply, Aethas crossed the room in two swift steps and pinned him to his own divan.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which years of tension melt away when Aethas takes control of the Grand Magister's pleasure, and a good night of sated sleep will be had by both.

Aethas looked up from his study of the fire to find Rommath’s gaze trained on him, the older elf’s lips slightly parted, eyes dark.

The Grand Magister sat poised on his velveteen divan like a pampered prince, his simple, scarlet robe open to the belly, slipping entirely off one shoulder. Rommath’s sleek black hair cascaded over his bare skin and he peered back at Aethas implacably as a cat.

He was _delicious_. Age had been not only kind to the Grand Magister--it had been doting. Rommath's tattooed skin was smooth, firm, and his stomach and chest moved with quickened breath that belied his supposed annoyance. He made no move, and did not speak.

Aethas licked his own lips.

Before he realized what he was doing, he had clambered onto the divan, crushing Rommath into the plush cushions with the force of his embrace. Rommath folded beneath Aethas, all satin, spice-scented skin and long, strong limbs. He did not struggle or fight Aethas.

_He wants this._

Aethas gazed down in shock through his sudden violent, confused haze of lust to see Rommath looking back, eyes heavy-lidded.

“You have been alone for a long time, have you not, old man?” Aethas taunted, pinning Rommath by his wrists, knees planted on either side of his thighs.

Rommath snarled something under his breath, but did not struggle. Aethas gazed down at him, at his parted lips. At the hard set of his jaw, at the curve of his throat. Rommath met his scrutiny with another muttered curse. Aethas tightened his grip on the other elf’s wrists and Rommath bucked upward, back arched, by way of reply.

Something in Aethas snapped. All of his doubts, all of his fears dissolved into blind desire as Rommath shifted his hips a second time. Aethas collapsed atop the other man, crushing his lips in a hard, relentless kiss. The other elf met him with equal fervor, tongue ramming against Aethas’s own, a long, ragged moan low in his chest.

Aethas broke Rommath’s wild kiss and backed away to catch his breath. Rommath sat up on his knees beside him, panting, his robe barely clinging to his right shoulder, the rest of the fabric spilling in a blood-red pool around bare skin. Aethas took in the sight with gut-dropping pleasure.

Rommath was _gorgeous_. His lips were bruised-pink and full from their violent kiss, the hard lines of his features intense and gaze focused on Aethas’s every move.  Aethas reached out and coaxed the robe entirely away, baring the other elf to firelight and his own lustful gaze.

Rommath waited with tightly restrained patience, not even moving when Aethas smoothed a hand over his black silken smallclothes, rubbing teasingly against his obvious arousal.

Aethas’s lips parted in a wolf’s smile. “Amazing. You want this. You want this like I do,” he murmured, cupping Rommath’s balls through the thin fabric.

Rommath, still sitting up on his knees, threw his head back, eyes closing. He rolled his hips into Aethas’s touch.

“ _Mmm_. That’s all the answer I need. You came to Dalaran for me, Rommath. The last person I expected but…you came. I cannot hope repay you in kind--"Aethas slipped his hand inside the leg of Rommath’s smallclothes. The other mage grunted in surprise. “Now I will at least give you what I can. Sit,” Aethas ordered and to his surprise, Rommath complied.

Aethas tore his own shirt over his head then knelt.  He tugged at Rommath’s flimsy smallclothes.

“Off,” Aethas said, voice husky.

Rommath wriggled where he sat, he and Aethas working the fabric over lean, strong thighs. The garment caught on Rommath’s ankle but Aethas didn't care. The important part was free. He ducked his head between the other elf’s legs and trailed his tongue from Rommath’s balls to the head of his cock. The other mage shuddered, a stifled utterance of pleasure on his lips.

Aethas pulled away to take in the sight.

“Grand Magister Rommath. My critic, my savior, naked and spread for me. You look so _deliciously_ debauched.”

Rommath only bit his bottom lip in reply.

“And so little to say. Here, let me loosen your tongue.” Aethas draped himself over the other mage and kissed him until neither of them could breathe, then slid back down onto his knees, face again between Rommath’s legs.

He started slowly at first, laving the other man’s length, sucking lightly at the head then without warning, he dove in and worked Rommath in earnest. Aethas felt fingers tangling in his hair or clawing at his shoulders by turns.

He sucked harder, the rhythm intensifying. Rommath rose to meet him, thrusting into his mouth, thighs trembling.

Rommath was so close, Aethas could tell. He held the other elf down by his hips and took him deep. Aethas felt Rommath’s hands curl painfully in his hair and, with a powerful shudder and one strangled word, he came into Aethas’s mouth.

_“Yes.”_

Aethas pulled away and swallowed. Rommath watched him, eyes wide in shock and bliss.

“You are so _quiet_ , Rommath,” Aethas teased.

Rommath drew himself up to standing, breathing hard. “Now, yes,” he replied in a shaking whisper. "Let us see how quiet _you_ are.”

 

<3

 

Rommath could not trust the reality of this night. Surely it was some strange magic, some dream. He had been lost in his own dark thoughts, brooding for hours then…

_Aethas Sunreaver, breaking into my own chambers, kissing me stupid and sucking me dry._

Rommath wanted to be indignant. Disgusted with Aethas, with himself.

 _Anything_.

But his mind, body, and heart would not cooperate. His legs still shaking, he looked over at Aethas, the other elf’s lips full from the attentions he’d lavished on Rommath, his chest heaving.

Rommath crossed over to Aethas and drew him into a slow, hot kiss. He could taste himself, warm and salty, on Aethas’s lips. He slid his tongue out of the other elf’s mouth, trailed it down the pale line of Aethas’s neck and jaw, pausing to bite the soft skin at the base of his neck, just before the collarbone.

“Rommath,” Aethas murmured, rocking against him, still in his breeches.

“Aethas,” Rommath replied, easing a hand between them to work at the fastenings of the other mage’s clothes. The garment slid to the floor and Aethas sidestepped both his trousers and smallclothes, suddenly naked and grinding heatedly against Rommath.

Rommath extracted himself from Aethas's arms and crossed over to a large chest of drawers. He paused to look over his shoulder at the younger elf who was following him with a hungry gaze. Rommath drew out a small vial of oil and wound his way to the enormous bed in the darkest corner of the chamber. He waved a hand, igniting a candle in a black iron sconce.

Aethas followed him, bare feet noiseless on the carpet.

“On your back, Aethas,” Rommath said quietly, the words less a command, more a plea.

Aethas leaped onto the sumptuous linens, raised up on both elbows, watching Rommath’s every move.

Rommath slid onto the bed beside him, oil in hand. “Prepare me,” he said simply. He turned so that his back was to Aethas, lowering himself onto all fours.

“Rommath…Stars,  you're gorgeous,” Aethas said, the hint of a growl in his words.

Rommath waited, prone, while Aethas shifted behind him. He inhaled sharply at the sensation of lips on his left cheek and then his right, and a slick of tongue over his entrance.

“Have you always been like this? Like an animal in heat?” Aethas said and slid a finger inside of him.

Rommath moaned, but did not reply. He slid back, driving Aethas’s finger deeper.

“A rutting beast,” Aethas said, his voice ragged. He worked Rommath, stretching him to a pleasant burn.

Rommath moved away, feeling empty without Aethas's finger inside of him.

“On your back again, Aethas,” the Magister whispered silkily. _"Please."_

Aethas complied. Rommath ducked down to kiss him, a spill of his own black hair curling like tattoos on Aethas’s skin. When he drew away, he could tell Aethas was losing his patience, so hard it looked painful. The younger elf’s grip on his arms was cruel, his expression wild.

Without a word, Rommath lowered himself, slowly at first. He took in just the tip of Aethas’s cock before lifting himself again. Aethas trembled beneath him.

“I came for you…” Rommath said, voice edged with focus. He sank down again, further this time. Aethas yelped in frustration when Rommath lifted to hover just above him. “I came for you because you deserved it,” Rommath said, breath catching, then he impaled himself on Aethas and began to rock.

Rommath fucked Aethas like he was made for it. He could feel a sheen of sweat slick his skin as he bucked on the other mage, Aethas frozen in ecstasy beneath him. Rommath moaned low in his throat and quickened his pace, slamming Aethas deep inside of him.

“Rommath—ahh—“ Aethas gazed up at him, eyes wide.

“I came for you…” Rommath moved with purpose, gaze fixed on Aethas’s face. He could feel the other elf tense beneath him, trembling, poised on the edge of release. “Now… _mmm_ ,” Rommath said breathlessly as he rode Aethas faster than before, setting a pace that would be punishing for some men, “now _you_ can come for _me_.”

“Rommath!” Aethas screamed the other mage's name, his orgasm rippling over him, hot and fast and deep. He collapsed to lay flat against the mattress in a sweaty, boneless and sated heap.

Rommath leaned forward, sliding off the other man, and kissed him slowly, deeply. He rolled to his side, panting.

“Rommath…h-how did this happen?" Aethas spoke from beside him, words shaking, breathless.

“You showed up in my quarters uninvited, and you're paying the price. Put out the candle,” Rommath replied, his voice muffled by the pillow.

The room went dim again, and Aethas settled beside Rommath, one arm thrown lazily over him. “Rommath—“ he started.

“Be quiet, while you still have that luxury. Trust me on this," Rommath said, closing his eyes but content to lay awake with his thoughts while the other man stilled beside him.


End file.
